Forbidden Mania | 18+

4.

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𝑀𝒾𝓈𝒽𝓀𝒶'𝓈 𝒫𝑜𝓋~

The morning light filtered through the soft cream curtains of my bedroom as I stood in front of the mirror, the soft rustle of fabric filled the room as I slipped into the deep red saree Arsh had gifted me.

It was stunning, rich in color, with delicate gold embroidery at the borders that shimmered every time the light hit it.

I carefully adjusted the pallu over my shoulder, but no matter how I draped it, my waist still peeked through.

A small sigh escaped my lips. How did women manage to look so elegant in these? The saree seemed to have a mind of its own, and I wasn't sure if I could keep it all in place.

But for Arsh, I wanted to try.

As I stood in front of the mirror, trying to tuck a stray pleat, I heard my Baba's voice.

"Mishka, beta, I'll be late again tonight. There's a critical surgery scheduled."

I went downstairs while grabbing the pleats and peeked into his study watching him scribble something furiously on a notepad, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Baba, you always say that," I said, trying to tease him, but my voice came out softer than intended.

He glanced up, his tired eyes meeting mine. "I know, beta, I know. But this is important. You know how these things go."

I smiled faintly, nodding in understanding. "I know. It's alright."

Baba gave me a distracted but affectionate smile before returning to his notes.

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

"What? Alright I'm on my way, arrange the blood immediately." He ordered someone, grabbing his keys he rushed through the door not before kissing my forehead in hurry.

"Be careful." I whipered.

He always cared, but his work consumed him. I couldn't blame him, he saved lives. But sometimes, I wished he'd see that I needed him too.

Baba.

Dr. Basu one of the busiest surgeons in this city, was barely home these days. When he was, he would retreat into his study with medical journals and papers scattered all over the place.

We shared a quiet understanding. He had his work, and I had, well, I was still figuring out what I had.

I quickly went in my room and taking one last glance in the mirror, I gathered my things and headed toward the door.

The plan was simple, visit the temple, offer my prayers, and return home before the day truly began.

I walked down the stairs, my saree flowing behind me, making me feel strangely elegant and a little awkward. Just as I reached the bottom step, I heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up outside. The familiar rumble of an engine made my heart skip a beat.

"Arsh?" I muttered under my breath, my heart fluttering for reasons I couldn't quite explain.

My breath hitched in my throat as I hurried to the door, trying not to trip over my saree in the process.

As I opened it, there he was-leaning against the sleek black SUV, wearing a crisp white shirt and black slacks that hugged his tall, muscular form. His hands shoved into the pockets of his suit pants, looking like he'd stepped right out of a dream. His sharp jawline, those piercing eyes, every time I see him, it feels like the first time all over again.